


carrots

by WhiteJackal



Series: allen of avonlea [2]
Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985), Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery
Genre: Book: Anne of Green Gables, F/M, Gen, Rule 63, genderbent anne of green gables, in which we get the infamous anne and gilbert scene genderswapped, my anne/gilbert heart is swollen, rule 63 anne of green gables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 17:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10167677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteJackal/pseuds/WhiteJackal
Summary: when iron enters the soul of one allen shirley.OR, gracie blythe makes an inexcusable error in judgment and nicknames.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "his newly-reawakened mind told him one thing with all certainty: he hated gracie blythe, and he would never forgive her..." 
> 
> set during chapter 15 of l.m. montgomery's "anne of green gables"

“She’s the prettiest girl in _school_ , isn’t she?” Duncan Barry whispered.

Gracie Blythe _was_ pretty, Allen had to admit. She was uncommonly pretty, actually—possibly the prettiest girl Allen had ever seen outside of his imaginings. She had a head full of dark brown curls, and they tumbled wildly around her shoulders and down her back. A couple of ribbons were braided into the plaits that held back half of her thick hair, and she wore a simple, lovely dress with gray and pink and white flowers. Her intelligent, sparking eyes were like pieces of the clearest, bluest sky, framed by thick, dark lashes. Her skin was a healthy, rosy-brown hue with nary a freckle in sight. Her lips were as pink as the flowers on her dress and resting on her desk ( _Allen had seen a golden-haired boy, whom Duncan jealously pointed out to be Joey Pie, present Gracie with the bouquet in the schoolyard_ ). Normal boys wouldn’t have noticed such things as the nuances of a pretty girl’s appearance, but Allen Shirley was no normal boy. He was by no means a “skirt chaser,” and his experience with the fairer sex was limited to babies and Mrs. Hammond and the asylum workers prior to Avonlea; but his artistic sentiments tingled at the sight of such a charming, beautiful thing as Gracie Blythe, and he could not help but admire her.

“She _is_ a pretty girl,” he admitted quietly to Duncan.

As though she’d heard him, Gracie Blythe turned around at that moment, gave Allen an arrogant and coquettish smile, and _winked_ at him! Allen was astonished, and he blinked rapidly, mouth slightly agape. Girls did not wink at boys! _Well-mannered_ girls didn’t, anyway. He’d met very few well-mannered girls in his life, but he’d read about plenty of them, and he’d seen plenty of the other sort to know what _they_ did.

“Does your Gracie Blythe always wink at strangers?” Allen’s tone was lofty and dignified, and his ruddy head lifted and turned away from the bold girl. But his voice was a bit higher than usual, and he fought to ignore the fluttering abnormality of his heart. A girl had never winked at him before… Surely, she was teasing him, making fun of him. The thought made his pride sting and mouth set firmly.

“She _winked_ at you?” Duncan’s black eyes widened, and he glanced furtively at Gracie before sheepishly turning back to Allen. “You do have all the luck, Allen. I _wish_ she’d wink at me… Yes, Grace does _tease_ the boys, but I’ve never seen her _wink_ at anyone before!”

Allen’s pride lifted a bit at that. Gracie Blythe might be a flirt, but she’d flirted with Allen in a different enough way to make him feel just the smallest bit special. Maybe… Maybe she _liked_ him? For the smallest of moments, scenes from novels and poems flitted through Allen’s active imagination. He thought of picking bouquets of flowers for Gracie and making her smile and blush. He thought of dancing under stars and soft kisses under sweet-smelling cherry blossoms in the White Way of Delight.

But all those childishly-romantic fantasies were to be forgotten for many a year when a laughing hiss from across the aisle thundered Allen’s way:

“ _Carrots_!”

Gray eyes widened, and Allen’s heart froze.

“ _Psst_! Hey, Carrots!” Gracie Blythe’s hissing caused a few giggles about the classroom. “Carrots!” And then— _then_ she reached across the aisle, grabbed one of Allen’s curls, and pulled hard.

Pain and fury and humiliation met, and Allen rose and faced the designer of his disgrace. “How dare you,” he hissed, voice rising with every word. “ _How dare you_? You stupid, mean, rude little girl!”

And then, before anyone could even try to stop him, Allen dumped Gracie Blythe and Charlotte Sloane’s full well of slate-water over Gracie’s pretty head.

The resulting cacophony was nearly deafening, had Allen’s ears not already been ringing with rage. As his temper cooled to reality, however, he heard and saw all the consequences of his rash and horrid act of anger.

Duncan stared openmouthed, unable to make a sound. Charlotte Sloane had shrieked and leapt from her seat beside Gracie when the slate-water descended, and she looked positively white with fright, her plump face fixed on Allen Shirley with terror. A few of the boys were laughing, and a few of the girls were in hysterics. Most simply stuttered or shouted in disbelief. Gracie Blythe, however, said nothing. Slate-water ran down her pretty face, and her curls were soaked through atop her head. Her dress and ribbons, hand-chosen and sewn by her mother’s newly-strengthened hands, were likely ruined. But, all of that together, she still said nothing—not until Miss Phillips stormed over to the desk, grabbing Allen sharply by the ear and shirt collar.

“Allen Shirley, what is the _meaning_ of this?” Miss Phillips twisted Allen’s ear, nearly ripping a cry from his dry and swollen throat.

“It was my fault, Miss Phillips,” Gracie Blythe announced, rising quickly to her feet. She looked quite the sight, face set in cool resolve, blue eyes still half-veiled in disbelief at the actions of the red-haired boy. “I was teasing him.”

But Miss Phillips paid no mind to Gracie’s words. She shoved Allen roughly in front of her, pushing him to the front of the schoolroom. “You will stand at the blackboard for the rest of the day,” she hissed firmly, only releasing him from her painful grip when she had him where every single child in the schoolroom could see him and _laugh at him_.

Miss Phillips turned to the aforementioned blackboard, gripping a piece of chalk tightly in her fingers, nearly breaking the writing instrument in her fury. She wrote on the blackboard in large, looping scrawl: ‘ _Allan Shirley has a very bad temper._ ’ She gripped Allen’s ear again, twisting it until he whimpered a bit. “You _will_ learn to control yourself in my classroom.” She released him and brushed her hands over her skirt. “You will copy this line onto the blackboard one hundred times before leaving today.”

She left him up there amongst the giggles and whispers of the students. Duncan’s face was all shock and wide, raven eyes. Joey Pie was grinning smugly, and Maggie Spurgeon McPherson couldn’t stop laughing behind her hand. Gracie Blythe, still covered in that dirty slate-water, was ushered from her seat by Miss Phillips, who told her to go outside to the pump and clean herself up. She said nothing aloud, but she mouthed perfectly discernible words across the room at Allen: ‘ _I’m sorry_.’

He lifted his head at that, gray eyes flashing with _iron_ fury. He’d been observing and feeling everything through a fog, but now he was alert and sharp as steel; and as he turned to the blackboard, correcting Miss Phillips’s misspelling of his name and starting on the humiliating task before him, his newly-reawakened mind told him one thing with all certainty: he _hated_ Gracie Blythe, and he would _never_ forgive her.

**Author's Note:**

> blending of book and 1985 series, as always.


End file.
